Home Sweet Home
by Kei Tree
Summary: The gang finally gets the home coming they deserve, and the happiness they've earned. Please readreview...


AN: Hay, my first Roswell fic. *shrugs* Hell, I write everything else... LOL I've been a   
faithful fan for three seasons but was never inspired to write a fic until I saw the last   
episode. Rushed as it was I liked how the producers tried to give our favorite aliens a   
somewhat happy ending. I wanted to give them my own, real happy ending, thus, 'Home Sweet   
Home'. I hope you enjoy and, if you feel so inclined, drop a little note in the little box.   
I'd be eternally greatful. =) Thanks ya'll...  
  
Disclaimer: I disclaim, I disclaim already!  
  
  
  
******************************* Home Sweet Home ***********************************  
  
  
The rusted, spluttering van pulled into Roswell, New Mexico early Sunday afternoon. The tiny   
town was quiet and hot, with humidity weighing down the air oppressively. The van, now a dirty   
shade of blue stopped at an old fashioned gas station before dying.   
  
The passenger's side opened and a tall, well muscled man stomped out, cursing vilely. He   
pulled curling hair into a pony tail before lifting the hood gingerly. Steam billowed out.  
  
"It's the damn generator again!" he called, frustrated. The driver's side opened and a dark   
haired man slipped out. He was thinner than the first, though he commanded more attention,   
more notice, than his companion as he leaned against the side and watched, lips twitching, as   
the first seethed.  
  
"We made it back Michael, that's all that really matters."   
  
Michael glared balefully and kicked the bumper churlishly before replying. "I don't care if   
it took us to Paris Max... I fixed it right the last time and damn it, it should have stayed   
fixed!"  
  
Swallowing more laughter, Max snorted. "The van was old when we got it and we're inching in on   
near... near twelve years now." The two paused in the argument and Michael sighed. Max's face   
held a touch of surprise as the number spun in his head.   
  
Had it really been so long?  
  
The back doors opened at last and five more joined them. A woman, small, thin, and dark slid   
an easy arm around Max's waist. He beamed at her before leaning close and kissing her   
tenderly, first on full lips, then in a heated trail down her neck and across the shoulders   
bared by her simple peasant shirt.   
  
Another woman, blonde and curved, went to the disgruntled Michael's side. She reached up as he   
glowered and undid the pony tail. "I like your hair down better," she said simply, though her  
eyes dared him to disagree.   
  
"Maria... I can't work on the van when its in the way."   
  
She sniffed in silent response. "Then cut it. Besides, the van's in bad enough shape you   
can't work on it at all right now." His glare softened and melted some as she turned her back   
to him and made soothing noises to the babe that slept uneasily in her other arm.   
  
"Let me see her," Michael demanded gruffly. Maris raised brows at the imperious tone and   
ignored her husband for a heart beat, cooing softly to their baby, their little Joy. "Please   
Maria."   
  
She smiled before turning and carefully holding Joy out. Michael took the sleeping child with   
an unguarded smile of delight.   
  
"She needs to be changed."   
  
Michael bristled for a moment before shrugging, accepting, and heading towards the inevitable   
bathroom. He paused mid stride before muttering an oath and dashing to the back of the van.   
Several minutes later he was on his way, babe in one arm, diaper bag draped paternally over the   
other.  
  
"Fatherhood suites him Maria."   
  
The golden woman smiled smugly at her life long friend. "I know Liz. It certainly does. Come   
on, let's go get sodas."  
  
Maria drug the unresisting Liz from Max's grasp and after a moment's pause, he shambled after   
them.   
  
He stopped long enough to call back a question to the two that remained. "You guys coming?"   
  
The man's gaze flickered to the woman and then back to Max's. He shook his head, a negative.   
Max nodded once and continued on into the store.  
  
Kyle shoved work hardened hands into the front pockets of his jeans, eyes speculative as he   
studied Isabel. She sat on the floor of the open van, long legs hanging casually down until   
sandaled feet touched the graveled ground. Her fingers, long, delicate, played with a worn,   
worn ring as she stared sightlessly at a spot somewhere around her toes.   
  
Of them all she had changed the least in the last twelve years. Her hair was still short, face   
unlined, style less refined but not really different. Her face, her eyes, still had the same   
capacity for pain, and for joy.   
  
But then, he shouldn't really expect anything less. All of them had started their lives the   
day they rolled out of Roswell in their stuttering van; Isabel had left hers behind.   
  
"You miss him still, don't you?"  
  
She jumped at his question but didn't look up. Kyle waited, patient, so, so patient. "I was a   
girl when I fell in love with him," she said finally. He said nothing in return until she   
spoke again, after another silence had descended and stretched between them.   
  
"Yes," she finally hissed, "Like we left yesterday. Like I could go back to him tonight and   
nothing would have changed. Like it hasn't been twelve long years. Like we had been married   
for years and years and years. I fell in love with him when I was a girl but I loved Jesse as   
a woman. I love him still."  
  
He went and sat next to her, legs propped up next to hers, arms folded across his well muscled   
chest as he expelled a deep breath and laid back, back until he was staring at the van ceiling.   
Uncomfortable, Kyle put his arms back so that his hands were behind his head, pillowing it.   
  
"Do Max and Michael know?"  
  
Isabel snorted delicately. "Know what Kyle? That I'm still bleeding inside? I... I don't   
know. I hope not. They're happy, finally, both of them. So damn happy its almost painful to   
watch. I can't, won't, ruin that.   
  
"All their shadows, all their darkness is gone, even in Michael. He smiles, he laughs, he loves   
without malice and bitterness and hate. I never believed that that could be possible for him.   
Never even imagined it.  
  
"Let them have their joy Kyle. Misery may love company but my conscience can't handle it."  
  
They shared a silence that was companionable after twelve years spent together. They were a   
family, all seven of them, in their own eccentric way. They had to be, to have survived so   
long together. Kyle, Isabel, Max, Liz, Michael, Maria, and Joy... Life's road had so many   
twists and turns but they had tackled each new rise and hill together, in their untrustworthy   
steed of a van. Doing good, living free. It wasn't a perfect lifestyle but it was life and to   
those who had grown up facing the barrel of a gun and government scalpels, any life at all was   
precious.   
  
"You could, could try to go back to him Isabel. Its been twelve years. I mean, if its safe   
enough to come back here then maybe..." Kyle trailed off as Isabel silently rose and walked   
off. He sighed as the sound of tinkling bells told him that she entered the small shop along   
with Maria, Liz, and Max.   
  
Even after twelve years, they weren't perfect either.   
  
***************************************************************************************  
  
Maria shifted from one foot to another, nervous.   
  
"Are you going to knock or are we just going to stand here until Joy says her first word."   
  
Maria glared at her husband before sighing. "You could try to be just a little more supportive   
Michael..."   
  
"I'm here, aren't I?" he responded shortly. She started to snap back but stopped when she   
noticed the tenseness in his body, and the small line of worry on his brow. Maria smiled   
instead. He was just as nervous as she was. After all, he, the big bad alien, had taken her   
Mother's "little girl" away. And now here they were, twelve years later, married and with a   
granddaughter.   
  
If Joy ever pulled a stunt like that there'd be hell to pay.   
  
After gathering her scant courage Maria raised her hand and knocked firmly. Michael shifted   
behind her, Joy in his arms.   
  
They waited like that, hopeful, fearful, like teenagers once again instead of adults, parents.   
There was a muffled thump, then, the door opened slowly. Maria and Michael blinked together as   
it swung open all the way.  
  
"Sheriff?"  
  
****************************************************************************************  
  
"Where have you all been?"   
  
Kyle Valenti was sitting on the worn couch in the living room of Amy... Amy Valenti an hour   
after his father answered the door to the Deluca... Valenti home. Apparently Liz, Max, Maria,   
and Michael weren't the only ones swearing their nuptials in the past twelve years.  
  
"I don't have any brothers or sisters do I?"   
  
Jim Valenti winced and ran a hand through too long hair, face creased, before he beamed.   
"I've missed you son."   
  
Kyle stood awkwardly and stepped forward into the warm, much missed, embrace.   
  
"God Dad, I've missed you too."  
  
Jim pounded his son's back, exuberant, and released him. "Before you ask, we've been married   
ten wonderful years. We don't have any children, and after the adventures you and Maria have   
put us through that might be a blessing. I'm still a deputy sheriff, am damn proud of my work,   
and I've been doing music on the side." His weathered face softened.   
  
"I'm happier then I've ever been in my life, except for the hole that you all leaving left   
behind. I think that's why me and Amy finally got together... We always, on some crazy level,   
cared about each other. Having that hole there... We were there for each other a lot. And   
finally we just decided to be there all the time.  
  
"Now, have you developed any alien powers? Any secret marriages of your own? Are you still   
quoting Buddha?"   
  
It was Kyle's turn to beam. "I can glow in the dark and bend soft metals with my mind. The   
old spoon trick. As for marriages, the closest I've ever gotten is that blue haired chorus   
dancer from Vegas, and yes, I'm still a Buddhist. I don't practice as religiously as I used   
to but its still a big part of my life. I've even won Isabel over to some of his teachings..."  
  
"So basically you're a human night light capable of petty parlor tricks?"   
  
Kyle laughed. It was good to be home.   
  
**************************************************************************************  
  
It was going about as well as Michael could have expected. Amy was wailing, Maria was wailing,   
and Joy, bless her little heart, was asleep, lulled by the too common sound of her mother in   
tears. He and Maria were in love, a crazy, wild, wacky kind of love, but in love. She was his   
wife, the woman he had sworn to protect and cherish until the end of his Martian days and he   
took that vow very seriously.   
  
It didn't mean that everything was picnics and sugar plums though. He had his moments, though   
they came rarer and rarer these days, when he forgot all he had learned about love and   
compassion... When his acid tongue got the better of him and he hurt one of the people he   
cared most about. And sometimes Maria's flair for the dramatic got the better of her.   
Sometimes she grew bitter in her choice of dreams... in deciding love and family over her music.   
  
It had been a wonderful ride though and Michael wouldn't trade a second of it, broken van and   
all, for riches or fame, or a trip to the planet he used to call home. Because home was here   
now, wailing wives and mother in laws in all.   
  
Amy stopped long enough to dry her splotchy eyes and stare at the child tenderly held in his   
sculptured arms. "Well," she demanded after a long moment, "let me see my grandbaby."   
  
Maria's sobs turned into tears of relief and happiness as Amy Valenti carefully took her new   
granddaughter from Michael's arms.   
  
***************************************************************************************  
  
"Mr. Parker," Max said, face carefully neutral, as the door to the Parker apartment opened to   
their incessant knocking. Liz's father was older, older than he should have been... Lines   
creased his face deeply and gray streaked his dark hair. But every sign of stress induced   
aging vanished the moment he saw his only daughter.  
  
"Liz!"   
  
Max's father in law swept his child, a woman grown, up in his arms, tears streaming down his   
face, after twelve years of separation. Liz was crying too, wrapped in his embrace, laughing   
and trying to talk at the same time.   
  
Max glanced up and met his mother in law's open gaze from her half hidden alcove in the   
hallway. She studied her daughter's husband for a long moment before stepping forward. "Have   
you been taking care of my baby?"   
  
Max Evans did not flinch from the truth demanded by Mrs. Parker's eyes. Did not back down from   
it. "In every way that I can. I loved her from the first moment I saw her. I loved her even   
when I thought I was going to have to leave her. I loved her when I forgot who I was. I will   
never stop loving her Mrs. Parker. I will never stop caring for her. She is my life, and   
nothing, nothing else matters but her."   
  
Mrs. Parker's intense gaze softened at his solemn proclamation, softened and then gentled more   
when a slight smile curved her lips, turning her from a pretty woman into a radiant one, gray   
streaks and all. "Good answer Maxwell. You will always have a place in our home, both of   
you."   
  
Liz kissed her father's bristled cheek as the wayward couple stepped into the warmth of their   
family's acceptance.  
  
**************************************************************************************  
  
"Where the hell is Isabel?" Maxwell Evans demanded from his almost human, once human friend.   
"I can't do this alone. There was so much bad blood between my father and I before... She   
should be here..."   
  
Kyle Valenti shrugged philosophically. "Maybe she had somewhere else she had to be."  
  
"Like where Kyle? What could be more important than this?"   
  
Kyle raised dark brows. "Home, and I'd plan on extending our trip for a little while. Or at   
least until we manage to buy a new van, or ship back the old one." Max looked at him like he'd   
grown two heads.   
  
"Kyle, what are you saying?"   
  
The Buddhist, confidant, and friend smiled genially as the Evans household flung its doors   
open to claim one of its own back into its home. The door, amidst tears, heartfelt   
confessions, and proclamations of unconditional love, slammed shut in Kyle's face, muffling   
his reply as Mrs. and Mr. Evans brought their son into their house and hearts after the kind of   
absence no parents should have to endure.   
  
"That Isabel went home."  
  
*****************************************************************************************  
  
She stood, heart in her throat, and nervously smoothed down her shortly shorn hair. Isabel   
shifted from foot to foot and twirled her wedding band on her finger unconsciously. She raised   
a callused, manicured hand to the knocker and prepared to knock but before she could do it, the   
door opened on its own accord.   
  
Opened to reveal the man she had feared so much that she would never get to see again.   
  
He stood before her, a dishtowel drying soap lathered hands. He was dressed casually, in plaid   
shorts and a tee shirt from Walmart racks. His black, black hair held a sprinkle of gray at   
the temple. His dark eyes had crow's feet gathered at their corners, and worry lines on his   
proud brow. He had never looked more handsome.   
  
The towel fell from numb fingers as he stared at her. Isabel smiled weakly and held out her   
arms, her wedding ring glinting in the muted light of the hall. "I'm home," was her simple   
greeting.   
  
Jesse made a half strangled noise, half sob, half laugh before sweeping her in his arms, an   
answering ring on his own finger.   
  
And suddenly, held so close to her husband that their hearts beat as one, it was indeed as if   
no time had passed. As if the years and nights apart and tears and frustrations and the memory   
of men in military uniforms meant nothing. Nothing at all, as long as they were able to hold   
each other.   
  
Isabel was home... home sweet home, and that was all that mattered, all that was most important   
in life, no matter how long it took to make the journey. 


End file.
